


Indecent Thoughts

by ApacheLongbow



Category: Deus Ex (Video Games), Deus Ex: Mankind Divided
Genre: M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Out of Character, POV First Person, Prison, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Frustration, Undercover Missions, chaotic thoughts, poor Jensen lost in thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:28:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25245403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApacheLongbow/pseuds/ApacheLongbow
Summary: At first he felt pretty darn ashamed of himself.
Relationships: Adam Jensen/Hector Guerrero
Kudos: 62





	Indecent Thoughts

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Непристойные мысли](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/647827) by k1ssl0ta. 



This aug prison, where I was sent as an undercover agent, from the very first minutes seemed like a special kind of hell on Earth.

But… Maybe I exaggerated the situation a bit. Wouldn’t be that bad save for this damned «Choke», a suppression chip, which cut off every single attempt to use whatever augmentation I needed. The shittiest moment of this? When you’re augmented from head to toes, the pain pierces everything that hasn’t been replaced. Well, there’s not much left. It doesn’t matter when it happens more and more often than previously expected.

I knew what I was getting myself into. Or rather, I thought I knew. But alas, there was no turning back. Either you carry out the mission tracking down that bastard you were thrown in here for, or… There was no second option as well, as unfortunate as that may be.

I started regretting my choice early on.

And since when did I start complaining? Seems like from that very moment. I was probably just tired. Sometimes, when I was lying in the cell at night and staring up at the ceiling, one obsessive thought arose in my head, which I used to brush aside and forget completely shortly after that. The sharp pain caused by this «Choke» distracted me from such thoughts.

And later, in the morning, I started working on my way to accomplish the mission. Gradually, step by step. It was like some kind of game, but the main difference is that you have only one life. Sometimes I wondered how could I manage to stay alive, risking it so much?

I sneaked into Block B unnoticed, barely escaping alarms at the slightest mistake. If it wasn’t for the stun-gun left by one of the correctional officers, I'd have been exposed a long time ago and sent straight to solitary confinement. Apparently, prisoners would be executed shortly after that. Or was it just a rumor, spreading all over the prison? I could only guess back then and try not to run into trouble.

There was no room for error.

What a relief it was to find a right-sized yellow prison suit in one of the lockers, hell of a coincidence, damn it. Now the task became a little bit easier, but it was clearly undesirable to get caught in the guard's face anyway. I somehow passed through the cell block, heading to the shower room, and trying to stay calm. The man I was searching for had to be there.

Agent Hector Guerrero met me there on the passway with a mordacious comment right off the bat and a sarcastic smirk. Usually, in such cases, I had a desire to punch the person in the face, but definitely not at that moment.

His voice… It gave me the shivers for a reason I couldn’t fathom and a feeling of my stomach dropping. Well, it wasn't different from the other voices so to speak, the same as everyone else’s, but… At the same time, it evoked strange feelings. Shit. I started to get scared of myself, of my thoughts about it. I drove them away, trying to pay more attention to what Guerrero was saying, not the way he was talking.

Is it worth mentioning how this task was extremely difficult?

Holy shit, Hector. For fuck's sake...

I tried to concentrate on the flow of information and respond with something more or less coherent, but succeeded more in memorizing his every gesture. Right down to the slightest, barely noticeable turn of the head and lips movement during a conversation.

Mejia.

He asked to be called that way. I complied with his request, although I’d rather call him by his real name.

I felt pretty darn ashamed of my thoughts and actions. I wished the earth would swallow me up, right on the spot. Couldn’t remember if I ever had my eyes on men, such thoughts made me feel uncomfortable.

Then I inconspicuously tried to have a closer look at his hands and after examining almost every pattern and detail of his tattoo sleeves I finally noticed the gloves. Found myself thinking how I’d wanted to take them off and touch his hand with my lips, feeling the rough skin and caressing each finger. And afterwards go higher, turning my attention from his hands to the neck, circling a fancy tattoo on its right side with tongue…

What an idiot! But I fucking liked it. I should have accepted that, after all.

The sharp pain from the chip distracted me again, but not for long.

Far from decent images about the two of us persistently stuck in my head, disregarding any attempts to be indifferent to them. My imagination has never been as wild as at that particular moment. And I didn't really know this man and, in fact, this was the very first time I saw him.

My further desire to roughly pin Guerrero against the wall without thinking about hurting him, shut him up, carelessly take off his defiant yellow jumpsuit in a hurry and fuck him was interrupted by Stenger’s sudden intrusion. Somewhere deep down, I was even grateful to that scumbag. Otherwise, the fuck knows what would have happened.

And yet I was able to finally touch the coveted bastard, when he was knocked out by a decent electric discharge of guard’s baton. The only pity was that I’m no longer capable of feeling anything with my hands.

All the rest of the time, before I headed out to save Mejia from the shithole he was thrown in, I thought of him. Fuck. I couldn’t get his cheeky, cute face alongside with sweet voice out of my head. Except I wasn’t ashamed of my thoughts anymore, just accepted them. Sometimes they were a mere distraction. Wow, how interesting. One man unwittingly managed to change me fundamentally with only his presence somehow.

In our second meeting, while I was trying to save this fucking princess from imprisoning in solitary confinement, I had to control my craving for banging him on the spot, my desire to do such things he probably never even guessed about. The atmosphere was already heated to the limit. And there was too little time for this.

The last time I could enjoy the sight of his face was in a VTOL when we escaped the prison, and it seems Guerrero didn't even notice my probably greedy glance, unlike Wörthmüller who caught that detail and glimpsed at me in a confusion. It wasn’t enough for me to just watch, goddamnit. As strange as it could be, I still kept thinking about this bastard.

I’ll never cease to regret agreeing to this mission after all…

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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